


Home is Everywhere (And Nowhere)

by trASHcantwrite



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Author is a TommyInnit Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Child Needs a Home, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Literally Tommy needs better family, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, OOC Tommyinnit?, Parent Cara | CaptainPuffy, Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Suicidal Thoughts, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, because i ruin them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trASHcantwrite/pseuds/trASHcantwrite
Summary: This place was nothing short of absolute hell, the warm memories that he associated with it far gone.They had washed away, just like the grandeur of having a family. The first few years were great, sure, but the shine dulled as the time dragged on. The constant companionship of Phil and Techno faded as the two went on more and more adventures away from home, figuring that Wilbur was more than adept at taking care of Tommy. He was left to fend for himself, with a young kid that was too used to just staying alive instead of being a kid.Tommy hasn't ever been good at figuring out where home is. These are the five times that he loses his home and the one time he actually gains one that he knows he won't lose.5 + 1 fic in which I really fail at being good at writing and maybe write OOC Tommyinnit which he can't find home lol, but we had some fun failing at it for the writer's block valentines' day writing thing
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 389
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Found family to make me feel something, MCYT Fic Rec





	Home is Everywhere (And Nowhere)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IWriteFicsAndTragdies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteFicsAndTragdies/gifts).



> hey!! long time no see my homies. 
> 
> I would like to extend an apology to all of you because I have written absolutely NOTHING since I posted the finale of The Things We Used Share. but!!! but!! but!!! I have created a discord which I will drop at the end of this fic, so that you guys can ask me questions and motivate me to write because I am actually SO bad at it. 
> 
> but anyways- this is for the writer's block valentines' day writing challenge, and this is for IWriteFicsNotTragedies ! so I hope you enjoy it (even though I absolutely didn't do it justice to what you wrote lol )
> 
> this was so fun though, and it finally got me outta my writer's block slump so yeah!! fun!!

**1\. The First Loss- of Childhood and Home**

Tommy wasn’t sure when he first started to call the place that Phil had welcomed him into home. Maybe it was when he felt the brush of Phil’s feathery embrace for the first time, or the first hum of a note of the guitar played by Wilbur’s hand. Maybe it was the first time that he had finally cracked the unbreaking neutral expression of Techno with a joke, or maybe it was the time that he finally could fall asleep in the comfort of his own bed, without someone watching him by his side. 

Maybe it was the time that he had finally convinced Phil to let him preen his wings, the soft glow of the grey and black feathers against firelight giving Tommy a sense of warmth that he had only felt a couple of times before as they sat in a comforting silence by the crackling flame. The murmurs of instruction that Phil was giving him told him in some innate way that he was home, a level of trust being established that couldn’t break. 

Maybe it was the time Technoblade had trusted him enough to sharpen his favorite sword before a duel, teaching him how to use the tools to sharpen the sword just right. “It’s all angles and art, Tommy.” He could remember the monotonous voice telling him, the tone indicative of nothing but also everything at the same time. Tommy could remember the small glimmer of pride when he got it exactly right, the feeling of something right clicking into place after he handed the sword back to his eldest brother. 

Or maybe it was the time that Wilbur had full-on cried when Tommy had accidentally slipped up and called Wilbur his brother. He had been calling the three other people in his life his family for a while, Technoblade and Wilbur brothers in his mind in everything except blood, Phil the father to watch over them all. But saying it out loud made it even more real, and the futile attempt to hide the tears welling in Wilbur’s eyes when Tommy slipped and called him a brother made him realize that maybe saying it out loud wasn’t such a bad thing after all. 

But now, hearing the shouts of his “father” and the man that he considered his closest brother echo through the house, the muting of a door closed shut doing nothing to help, Tommy wasn’t sure why he ever considered this place home. This place was nothing short of absolute hell, the warm memories that he associated with it far gone. 

They had washed away, just like the grandeur of having a family. The first few years were great, sure, but the shine dulled as the time dragged on. The constant companionship of Phil and Techno faded as the two went on more and more adventures away from home, figuring that Wilbur was more than adept at taking care of Tommy. He was left to fend for himself, with a young kid that was too used to just staying alive instead of being a kid. 

_“Phil, you can’t just keep on leaving! Tommy’s just a kid-”_

_“You’re more than adept at taking care of children Will! Considering that you already have a son of your own-”_

_“You called him family. Family, Phil. You can’t just suddenly decide that a kid that young is family and then leave him all alone! That’s not what family does! Are you absolutely mental?”_

_“It’s not like we’re leaving him alone! He has you, and he’s more than perfectly fine. It’s not like he’s going to notice, anyways!”_

_“Oh, what do you take him for, an idiot? While he might be loud and brash, that doesn’t automatically mean he’s dumb, Phil! He’s smarter than he seems- he’s going to notice that his father is leaving for longer and longer amounts of time preparing to go to another server without him!”_

_“That’s not-”_

_“That’s not exactly what you’re doing, Phil? Please. Cut the bullshit. We’ve both seen the supplies that you’re preparing around the house. You’re doing a shit job at hiding them, you’re lucky that Tommy hasn’t put all the pieces together yet. It’s only a matter of time-”_

_“Phil isn’t doing anything wrong, here Wilbur, you’re the one being irrational-”_

_“Don’t get me started on you, Technoblade!”_

Tommy was tired of hearing the screams. He heard them every single time that Phil and Techno came home now- which wasn’t often, but the noise always seemed to keep him awake, no matter how hard the three others in the house tried to hide it from them. This time though, it seemed like they really didn’t care- almost as if they had forgotten that he was even around. 

Giving a groan as he heard the argument grow louder and louder, two voices blending into three, he slammed his pillow over his ears, a sad attempt to soften the noise that he wished to mute entirely. Staring up at the slanted ceiling of his attic bedroom, Tommy could only wish for the bright glow of the moonlight to guide him home, to a place where he would actually be thought about and cared for by everyone, not an afterthought to those who he looked up to and cared about. 

Because whatever he had here was dead and gone. 

He knew that, just like he knew that the sun rose and fell, like how the earth was flat (no matter how many fucking times Wilbur tried to disprove him otherwise with his zany and out-there theories), like how he had once considered this house to be a home. 

There was nothing left for him here, the once warmth feeling that he would always feel envelop him inside of this house draining from him slowly, like all of the blood was being leeched out of him. The place where he had grown up, been rescued from the harsh realities of stealing off the streets in the local villages to survive, his _home,_ was gone. 

And there was nothing left to spare. 

Rolling over in his bed, giving a small grunt of frustration, Tommy tried to hide the tears that were streaking down his face, burying it into the pillow he had wrapped around his ears to try and stop the arguing. The whole thing was futile and pointless to try and block out anyways- they would continue to argue and argue and argue with no end or resolution. 

A small hitch of a breath was all Tommy could give as he let the darkness swallow him whole, his cries for a home left unanswered among the darkness of the night once again.

* * *

**2\. The Almost Home**

Tommy’s still not sure why he’s followed Wilbur to this new idea of a land completely independent of the Dream SMP, but hey, when his older brother and the only thing that he could even remotely consider anything close to home appeared on the server with a shiny invite and a gleam in his eyes that meant he had one of the worst ideas possible, it wasn’t like he could say no- right?

__

He could’ve. He definitely could’ve. Now in reflection on the whole idea of this new land, Tommy realizes that he could’ve just been content with his small dirt shack that he had close to Tubbo’s house, could’ve been content with the idea that maybe he would never truly find a home again, just having friends that would help him find himself- to have fun. Because Tommy didn’t really need a home- not a home like this that would take so much away from him. 

__

It had started out as a drug van, a stupid bit and antic that was so common of the brothers when they were together, before Tommy had decided to leave the childhood place he had once considered home, after Wilbur had dedicated more of his time to his own son than his brother that never had any semblance of a childhood. It started out as something small, something to lighten up the boring drag of the day to day of a place being started out. 

But then it evolved into the idea of a country, a place to establish a new home with Wilbur, his son Fundy, Tommy, Tubbo, and Eret (another friend that had been made on the server). It was hard to fathom, the idea that Wilbur wanted to create a new place that was something of a safe haven for those that he cared about. At least there was the positive that Tommy was still included on that list- right? Even if a new home in the way of making a country wasn’t exactly what he had been looking for, at least it was something.  
L’Manberg. 

Emphasis on the L’, of course. 

It was a place for a fresh start, an almost apology from Wilbur to Tommy as the brothers became each other’s closest solace, partners in crime. Tommy was Wilbur’s right hand man, Tubbo always one step behind Tommy, the three of them starting something that they hoped would be permanent, a place for joy and for freedom. 

It honestly did feel like home, at first. 

It had the potential- Tommy still hesitant about calling anything a home after the memories he carried of Phil and Techno and his childhood hom- house. It really did. L'Manberg could, with time given, of course, grow into something that Tommy could almost consider a home. 

The nights around the campfire, watching Wilbur play guitar, the light in the man’s eyes the exact same as it used to be back before… they left, the horrible harmonies that would come from everyone singing, the soft laughter that would echo after a particularly good rendition of a song. The excitement at the mere prospect of having a family, having a home, that was enough for Tommy. 

But then came the war. 

And Tommy wasn’t exactly sure if this was something that he wanted to be fighting for. L’Manberg was great, sure, it was a place for fun and for freedom, but was it really worth breaking away entirely from the Dream SMP? To start fighting old friends over something so small as a symbol- freedom? 

__

“L’Manberg is our home. We have to protect it to the best of our ability.”

__

That was all Wilbur kept saying, and Tommy had to admit, it was definitely making it feel less and less like a home. It just felt like another project that the two of them were pouring themselves into to make it feel like they had some semblance of something that could be considered a home, or family. Sure, L’Manberg was great, but it wasn’t worth losing their lives or losing the valuable friendships that came from the Dream SMP.

Tommy hated that those words would come back to bite him. 

The Final Control Room and the betrayal of Eret stung, the TNT igniting inside of L’Manberg just a few moments before he died for the first time (actually died, with the feeling of a true respawn striking terror into his chest) the indication that home, or what he thought could’ve eventually been home, had died once again. 

It was like the arguments all over again the night after the betrayal.

Finding Eret a traitor, the screams Wilbur gave him from over L’Manberg walls, the arguments between Fundy, Tubbo, and Wilbur as they really decided what to do next. All of it sounded so desperately familiar in a way that made Tommy want to tear his own hair out. 

There was nothing the L’Manberg cause could do, surrender not an option- never an option in Wilbur’s eyes. Wilbur was desperate to establish a place for his son to grow up safe, the rest desperate for a home to keep them safe and happy. They still wanted to fight, a noble but stupid idea for a cause that was slipping before Tommy’s eyes, only growing brighter and more stronger for everyone else. 

It was in that moment that Tommy realized that this place definitely wasn’t home for him. 

Home was supposed to be safe, a place where you didn't have to worry about if you would survive the night, worry about patching up your friends’ injuries so that they didn’t die. Home wasn’t supposed to be a place where you could even think about having to die for it- home wasn’t supposed to be a place where you actually died. 

But he wouldn’t let more people lose their lives to their idea of home- even if it didn’t exactly mean the same thing to him. So, as Tommy slunk out of the caravan amidst the fighting, he negotiated a deal with Dream- a duel, for the independence of his “home”, and if lost, the surrender of the SMP. With one exception, of course, the sacrifice of something precious to him is he really did lose the duel and still want to keep the country’s independence. 

__

1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9…

__

Ten paces…. Fire!

__

A shot missed, and a shot found its target. 

Unfortunately, Tommy’s did not. 

Another cruel respawn, another sinking feeling in his chest as Tommy realized that L’Manberg would never truly be his home, no matter how hard he fought for it or desired it to be. He would lose too much for this country, fight futile battles just for everything to stay the same. But as he rose again, gathering two important items from his ender chest to meet once again with Dream, Tommy swore one thing. 

Even if L’Manberg wasn’t truly his home- even if it didn’t really ever feel like it, he would try his hardest to ensure that it was for everyone else. 

* * *

****

**3\. The Feeling of Home**

Pogtopia brought a different dull loss when it came to home- one that Tommy didn’t even think could be possible. The loss of a different meaning of home, in a way that stung even more than the first two ways he had lost home had. 

It started when running away from L’Manberg after the election didn’t sting as much as Tommy thought it would. 

Sure, losing the election stung like hell, not being able to help Tubbo escape, not letting the people of L’Manberg stay safe under his protection sucked, but hey, at least Tommy didn’t really consider it home- not like Wilbur did. L’Manberg was more of a place to give other people a home, not a home for Tommy himself. 

No matter if he really thought of it as a home or not, the idea that it wasn’t made everything hurt just a little less. 

He could see Wilbur slowly losing it, away from the place that he had established as his home. Finding a ravine and crawling into it, desperate to find something that he could consider a base until he could get back to L’Manberg, to the place that was his own home. Even his own son had betrayed Wilbur, allowing the home- the safe haven that had been created for Fundy, to be torn down and turned into something else. 

The walls of the ravine were suffocating, the air inside hard to breathe. Everything seemed to be changing- and it wasn’t just L’Manberg, which had a new and much more American name in Manberg, or that the walls of the country that Tommy had worked so hard to be a home for everyone he cared about were gone. 

Wilbur was changing too- ranting about being the villain in everyone’s history, the caring man that Tommy considered to be his older brother gone. Now there was just the maniacal shell of a broken man, everything he cared about and everyone he loved somehow slipping from his grasp. 

He had lost sight of his home, and that had broken him, in ways that Tommy could never see coming. 

Wilbur wanted to blow up Manberg, believing that everything he had worked for- the former home that he had created for himself and his friends- no, his family, was gone. That if everything was changing, that he could initiate the biggest change and blow it all up, like there had been nothing to begin with. 

Because if he couldn’t have L’Manberg- or Manberg, as his home, no one else could. 

Tommy couldn’t bear to see his older brother in such pain in that way- to see him so willing to ruin the lives of others around him, to give up the idea of home that they fought so hard for (even if Tommy didn’t believe in the prospect himself. 

So he did the only thing that he could think of doing- calling big brother Technoblade. 

Which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea, considering that the last time that Wilbur and Techno had probably talked was one of their inevitable arguments. But Wilbur wanted a revolution, and the two of them needed some manpower on their side, and Technoblade had always offered help to Tommy in case he needed it in a dire situation like this. 

He just called Technoblade for help to win back L’Manberg, Tommy kept reminding himself. 

Not because he hoped that maybe the family could heal, that they could make Pogtopia and L’Manberg things of the past, run away and create a new home together, with Tubbo, with Fundy, away from all of the new problems that the Dream SMP was bringing the formerly united family of the Antarctic Empire. 

Tommy didn’t realize what a mistake he had made until Technoblade showed up and fully supported the idea of completely blowing L’Manberg to smithereens with Wilbur. He didn’t realize that the small glimmer of hope that he had that his two older brothers would be reasonable and try and resolve whatever issues they had as a family for Tommy was stupid. 

They really, had only ever really cared about their own goals. About themselves. Never about what it would mean for other people to lose something important to them, only what they could accomplish and what they could do for themselves. 

So Tommy became determined to be the opposite. 

Continue fighting for the idea of L’Manberg, a home that never was, for the sake of everyone else. To continue fighting for the hope that things could get better, that he could be the one to build up the idea of home for everyone else. He was going to be the one to fight against the darkness that seemed to be swallowing the Dream SMP whole. 

So he tried to make Pogtopia a little more homely, adding in diamond blocks and redstone, things to make it seem more like it was a place where people actually lived, so when Tubbo visited with his reports as a spy, everything would seem alright, like the place that Tommy was living in was some sort of semblance of a home, not the place where two maniacal brothers seemed to be on the edge of destroying everything that Tommy had been fighting for. 

Then came the festival. 

Tubbo in a box. But not like the way that Wilbur and Tommy always used to joke about Tubbo being in a box. No, this was Tubbo being executed, being thrown up on a stage after being forced to decorate for his own execution. And his oldest brother was his executioner. 

Tommy could only watch and scream as Technoblade launched firework after firework into Tubbo’s chest, watching his friend lose his second life before his eyes, Wilbur holding him back with a dull look in his eyes. He was doing nothing to help him, doing nothing to stop what was happening. 

He didn’t care. 

That was the day that he lost the first person that he considered to be somewhat like home. Techno wasn’t there to protect him anymore, to be the person to console him in a way without judgement from the problems that ailed him, instead beating him into the ground and leaving him senseless after he executed Tubbo- his best friend. 

Then came November 16th. 

A day in which they were supposed to win it all back, a day in which they actually did. Schlatt died with a whimper in contrast to the expected bang, but the battle didn’t matter in the end. They got it all back, and Tubbo was president. It was supposed to be a new era, a time to move on. 

Which blew up within seconds of winning it back, all due to Wilbur’s maniacal beliefs and his motives. L’Manberg blew up, and with it, Tommy lost another feeling of home. Not due to him no longer feeling the warmth like it had been with Technoblade, but because it had been robbed to him. 

By the final member of his family that would never be a true home- Phil. 

While Pogtopia was never home, he had always considered Wilbur and Technoblade, to some extent, to be an extension of home. While they were a never physical home, they were a guiding light, a comfort and a warmth like the feeling home would normally bring. 

Pogtopia took that away from him. 

* * *

****

**4\. Hope of Home Diminished**

“Drop all of your stuff in the hole, Tommy.” 

The teenager knew from those words, immediately happening as soon as he had been cast away, dropped off like a useless weight at a new location, that this would never be a true home. This was going to be a prison, a place that constantly reminded him of the places he had lost, of the people that he would no longer be able to see. 

He had robbed himself of a new chance to create a home, with Tubbo, with the fresh start that Wilbur blowing up Manberg had brought. And now, he was watching everything blow up, once again, in front of him, just like it always did. 

Both literally and figuratively. 

But exile was different than Pogtopia, different than the first time. This time, he knew from the start that this was never going to be home, that there was no one that could come and save him from the horrors that he could experience now that he was isolated and alone in this exile. 

There was no Wilbur, no Technoblade, no random visits from Tubbo as he reported back on things that were happening in L’Manberg. There was just Dream, Dream and his determination to make exile the absolute worst thing that happened to Tommy. 

Even if Tommy thought of him as a friend, as the only person who visited him at the time. The manipulation of a man just trying to get the one person on the server who would rebel against him complacent, so that no problems would occur again. The man who convinced him that no one wanted to see Tommy because if they wanted to, they would come. 

Dream, the one who broke the spirit of the teenager who swore that he would never be broken, the one that swore that he would always be the one to provide others with a home and with happiness no matter the cost to him. 

That had been the reason he had been exiled, funnily enough. The new kid on the block, Ranboo, there was so much going on with him- and Tommy wanted to alleviate that- even if it was just for a little while. As to the reasons why George’s house got griefed- there was never a time in which Tubbo or Wilbur wouldn’t smile after a prank- whether it went good or bad. 

He thought that they would all understand, after everything he had sacrificed for everyone else to have a home, that they would let him come off with a less cruel punishment. That Tubbo would understand the ruins that the last exile left him in, and that he wouldn’t be subjugated to it again. 

How wrong he was. 

Exile was the absolute worst, the plains-beach area always having some sort of extreme weather- extreme heat, extreme rain, extreme wind- Tommy always ending up having some sort of injury or sickness in his months (or was it even a year? Time was so different in exile) that he had spent time there. 

Every day that Tommy would work himself to just get the bare essentials to survive, only getting so far as to pitch a tent (not even a permanent house, just a tent) before all of his work and tools were blown away in a hole the next day when Dream visited again. It was a small mercy that Tommy was even able to keep his tent, the admin claiming that he needed to start “having a home” in this new place somehow. 

This was never going to be home, though. 

Dream had ensured that. From the way that he basically monitored the teenager 24/7, to the way that he scared away anyone who even wanted to go near the exile. He was the only person that ever came to Tommy’s little exile corner, and whether that be because he actually cared or drove everyone away, well that was up to interpretation. 

Tommy could still remember the day that he finally realized that it was over- that no matter what, he wouldn’t have a home anywhere. Not when everyone had stopped caring about him. 

_“Tommy, if they would’ve cared, they would’ve been here!”_

_“Dream, there has to be a better explanation, I know the beach party wasn’t the best idea, but it’s Christmas Dream, you don’t think that they would really-”_

_“Tommy, they banished you from their home! Of course they don’t miss you! They’re happier without you!”_

_“No! I refuse to believe that- there has to still be someone who cares! And who gives a damn if I don’t have an actual home, a location! I can find home within other people! Home is all relative anyways! Always has been for me.”_

_“Oh Tommy.”_ He could still remember the way that Dream’s voice dropped, a sort of pity and glee in his voice as he continued to speak. _“You really believe people, people who haven’t visited you, haven’t cared, would be some sort of idea of home for you? People who left you behind, who don’t spare a second thought to you would care enough to be some sort of idea of home for you?”_

__

_“Dream, stop-”_

__

__

_“No! It’s Christmas, isn’t it? Isn’t it? So then why didn’t anyone come? Even your ghost of your brother didn’t even come by to give you a gift! He would be the closest you would consider to home nowadays, since you refuse to acknowledge that this exile is your home, huh?”_

__

_“Stop, please, just let me keep hope, let me have this-”_

_“Even your own father! He hasn’t been by to see you, to give you a gift and acknowledge that you’re here! He hasn’t seen you since the day that he killed Wilbur, hasn’t he?”_

_“I-”_

__

_“That’s what I figured. Just give up home, Tommy. There’s nowhere on this SMP, or any server, that can be home for you. No one is going to lead you there, no one is going to be that feeling for home. Just give it up.”_

Well, Tommy did just that. So Dream did get what he wanted in the end- the teenager, no matter how much he refused it from that point on, eventually coming to the acceptance that he had no true home anywhere in the world. It was fine, sure, something Tommy had known for a while in the back of his mind, but it still stung like hell. 

Giving up on hope and home was a lot harder than he ever thought it would be. It wasn’t something done easily, like shedding the L’Manberg uniform in Pogtopia, the first time he was exiled. It was something that slowly left him, through nights screaming into the abyss or crying himself to sleep. It was a slow process, his heart desperate to stop hope from dying out inside of him. 

It eventually did happen, hope withering into nothing but ashes he tossed into the wind. There was no home to hope for anymore, no hope at all. But hey, at least this way, when he inevitably did end up losing his last canon life, it wouldn’t hurt as much. Just an opportunity to find a new and actual home. 

He just hoped that opportunity came sooner rather than later. 

* * *

**5\. Another Potential Chance**

He really didn’t mean to come to Techno’s house. 

Really. 

He had stumbled upon it, and then decided that not dying in someone else’s house was inevitably better than actually dying in the cold snow that was the tundra, and dragged himself into the place. It had been warm, and that had been just about his only excuse. 

While dying one did stupid and irrational things. That was about the justification that was going through Tommy’s mind as he slammed open the door and completely stole as many items as he possibly could. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately for him), he was basically caught in the act of trying to steal things from _good old dad_ Philza, who stared at his son almost like he wasn’t even alive. 

So much for trying to get in and get out before being noticed. 

Before he knew it, he was enveloped in the warmth of a hug, then promptly swaddled in blankets, a warm mug of something shoved into his arms. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, and quite frankly, he didn’t think about it too much. Tommy knew that it was going to all be temporary as he stared at Phil murmuring something to someone over his communicator, heart dropping as he realized Technoblade would kick him out in an instant to die on his own. 

Sure, Phil might be able to convince him to stay until he was actually well enough to walk out the door on his own, but a biting voice in the back of his mind (which sounded eerily like Dream) told him not to savor this for too long. He would never have a home with these two, and he shouldn’t get comfortable here. 

It was only a matter of time before they decided he wasn’t enough for them, or maybe he was too much, and cast aside to continue crawling his way through the biomes without a home. After all, that had been what Dream had told him- and hadn’t he been right? 

Even after the explosions of Logstedshire (he begrudgingly gave his exile a name after that horrific Christmas argument to appease Dream, in that moment desperately wishing for someone else to be by his side- one that was by his side during the first exile) even after running from the admin after realizing that it wasn’t safe for him there, he still carried him in the back of his mind. 

“Tommy. You have to drink something, please, mate. You’re freezing.” 

That was how he found himself numbly sipping upon the mug that had been shoved into his hands, Phil fussing over him constantly, like a father would (a part of him reminded Tommy to not think anything of it, because if he had cared, he always would’ve provided a home for him) a son. He knew that there were wounds that would have to be worried about later, but at the moment, he was just trying to plan. 

Plan about how quickly he could get up and leave, how many supplies he could shove into a bag before he could bolt out the door (without Phil or Technoblade noticing), plan on where he could go next that no one from the Dream SMP could follow him to. 

It would be so easy to leave, so easy to just run-

All thoughts were crushed when Technoblade went crashing through the door, seeing Tommy’s longing glance at the door and at the tundra outside, and Phil’s concerned look on his face. “You know, if you’re thinking about running, there’s a fat chance of that happening. You’re stuck with us.” 

After those words, he had been relegated to staying on their couch for a couple weeks, making sure that his wounds from the TNT at Logstedshire had healed nicely, and that sick cough that he always had in exile that had worsened due to his hike into the tundra had gone away entirely. By that point, Techno had gotten accustomed to Tommy, trying to convince him that it was safe here, that the two of them were safe. 

The teenager knew better than to trust him. 

But a month after finding himself at the cottage, Technoblade had shoved him up from his spot, cautiously guiding him to the side of a mountain, where he placed a button on the stone and slammed it, revealing a hidden base.

It was filled with materials to ruin yet another country, another place that people could consider home. Withers, armor, fireworks, things that had torn apart the second prospect of home were stacked up in front of him instead, a cruel reminder of what he could never have. 

“Welcome home, Theseus.” 

The nasty grin on Technoblade’s face made Tommy’s stomach sink to the ground as the words that Dream had told him inside of exile rattled inside of his head. He _wasn’t_ home. It was only a matter of time before he would be forced to leave or he would fuck things up yet again, because this wasn’t home- and it never would be. 

And he didn’t want it to be. 

* * *

**\+ 1 Home is with Us**

Tommy hated being right. 

He really did, no matter what the “big man” persona that he put on would tell people otherwise. Behind all of the bravado and brashness hid a pessimist, grown larger and larger as the exiles stacked up, more obvious after the memories of horrific things started to grow to overpower the happy ones. 

So when Dream had gotten locked up in prison, still raving about Tommy would never have a true home, have a true family that would guide him to a place that seemed about as mystical as the End, Tommy hated how he actually believed it. 

Because who had proved him wrong otherwise? 

He really did have no home, no true family. 

As soon as Tommy got the discs back and L’Manberg was blown to pieces a second time (after he betrayed his brother, which was inevitable, and he really did try to tell Techno that, he really did-) Tubbo ran off to create a new home without him, only remembering to extend an invitation after Tommy had stumbled upon the site. Apparently he had found solace with Jack Manifold, the two of them working on a secret project together much like how Tommy and Tubbo used to. 

Phil and Technoblade had run off to adopt Ranboo, who was lost after the only place he had considered home was blown to pieces by them- a sort of apology for the kid that had been thrown in the crossfire of a family argument. 

Dream was obviously locked up, although Tommy wasn’t sure if he was ever considered a person that led Tommy “home.” He had been the one to actually tell Tommy the fucking truth in his life for once though, and that had to be credited for something. If things had really been dire, he could’ve always run back to him. 

And Wilbur? The one man who he could still think of as home? He was dead. He had been dead for months- it had almost been a year, if his memory could serve him right, and he was still a piece of home to Tommy. No matter how much Dream had yelled at him to let go, Wilbur stayed inside of him. The excuse being that he was dead, of course, so the idea of home had died with him inside of his chest. 

There were no ghosts to haunt Tommy about the lost idea of home with Wilbur either, and that was a small comfort after hearing how sometimes Schlatt came to haunt Tubbo in his dreams as President, or how the smell of liquor sometimes seemed to follow him when no one else was around. 

But there were new people in his life. And while they would never be considered family, they filled up places in his heart that had been empty caverns for quite a while. _(Though, they would never be family- some part of Tommy refused to let that happen, refused to let him hope of such a foolish thing.)_

There was Sam, who he had contracted to build a hotel for him. It was a place where people could come and go, stay for a little while and then leave. Much like Tommy’s life, he supposed, which was a bit funny in this sense. 

The hotel would give him a place to live, a place to stay, and it would never be a true “home” because it was a hotel. Living there would never be permanent, and it seemed to fit much too well for the teenager, who had no home to truly build, or hope to build that home off of. 

Sometime long ago, he could remember someone whispering to him that hope was the foundation of a home. 

He really did know that to be true now. 

But! Back to the hotel- he and Sam had really gotten along well, considering him to be someone he looked up to, as a father, something or other- Tommy wasn’t sure. But it was sort of a comfort to know that the prison’s warden was on his side, and that he would ensure that the man who had terrified him to even dream about hoping would never escape. 

And if sometimes he let Sam coax stories of things he swore to forget to him, to voice his fears to the man, and allow himself to be held as he cried, well that was to never be discussed. And if hope started to build back into his chest that Sam could be someone that he could build the foundations of home with, the two of them said nothing. 

Then there was the Captain. Captain Puffy. 

She was such a positively radiant beam in Tommy’s life, there to always try and lift his spirits and allow him to be a kid again. Puffy wanted him to be happy, to thrive, especially after she had seen what her duckling had done to him. The ramifications of those actions and the guilt that she felt afterwards were motivations for her to talk to Tommy, sure, but it was also the fact that she had seen everyone leave him- and no kid deserved to be alone. 

Puffy would take him out on adventures, adventures that reminded him of the days when the SMP was just starting out, maybe doing menial tasks like mining or trying to find a new biome. But they were always a joy to be on, and Tommy would leap at the chance to go with the woman. She was someone that he almost saw as a brave adventurer, an older sister figure that rivaled Technoblade. Though she wasn’t as skilled of a fighter, her knowledge and expertise made Tommy have a level of respect for her that he only saved for certain people. 

But unlike Technoblade, Puffy was actually funny. She was an energetic person, much more keen on being positive and being a good influence on others in contrast to the anarchy and blood that Tommy was so accustomed to seeing out of an older sibling figure. Puffy was someone that he could forget about all of his troubles with, and be reminded to take time for himself, be a kid again. 

Even if she occasionally coaxed information about his family and what he had lost through his exiles, and the unsettling feeling that he would never stop searching for the elusive concept of a home, they would never bring it up the next time they were adventuring. Puffy would just smile and squeeze his hand a bit tighter when he was in trouble, a contrast to Sam’s cautious nature around Tommy after one of their talks. 

But both were amazing for Tommy to be around, somewhat replacing the holes that Phil and Technoblade had left. They started to bring back the small glimmer of hope in his chest that a home could be rebuilt, a small sort of uncanny family (even if they weren’t explicitly family like he was with others) that would stay together, no matter what. There would be no betrayal, no leaving another behind, because all of them had experienced it to some extent before, and were never willing to do it again. 

But the void that could never be filled was Wilbur. 

No one would ever come close to being what Wilbur was for Tommy, that driving force to guide him to places where he could start to feel safe, to build himself back up into someone that he would want to be, a better version of himself. Even spiraling into madness, Wilbur had made Tommy better, and still was a solace for the worries that would plague him inside of that deep and dusty ravine. 

And god, Tommy missed Wilbur. Out of everything that he had regretted, he missed not savoring the time that he had with the man. He missed his embrace, the feeling of warmth that tugged at his chest every time he saw the man’s gaze. That hole would never be fixed, Tommy realized grimly, one day after the hotel had been finished and he had been working the front desk. 

The hotel had drawn members from different SMPs far and wide, the original admin’s elitism of whitelisting far behind them, the more open borders for people to roam now something that Tommy had grown accustomed to. He had seen people here from the Hermitcraft side of the world, the Elite side of the world- even the SMP Earth side. 

The door to the hotel opened again, the breeze brushing up against Tommy’s hair and skin as he looked up, trying to see who he was going to be greeting as a customer that day. 

But he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

Standing before him, clad in a maroon beanie, a soft knitted sweater, guitar strung up against his back, was Wilbur. Wilbur Soot, a man who he had thought to be dead. A man that should've been dead by all accounts, but was standing in front of him, just a hallway apart from each other. 

“Hey Toms.” A hesitant smile greeted him as he finally unfroze and fully took Wilbur in, standing right in front of him now, probably having moved to stand in front of him at the front desk. He was so casual, leaning his arms over the counter of the desk, raw and real, not some fake memory or twisted dream. It was him, standing right in front of him, in the flesh and blood. “I’d like to take a permanent room here, if you don’t mind.” 

A sob catching in his throat, Tommy scrambled out of his seat and flung himself at Wilbur, the two collapsing into a puddle on the ground, locked in a hug. He could hear the murmured apologies and mutterings of Wilbur as he hugged his younger brother tighter, and the footsteps of two others moving to stand beside the scene.

Looking up, Tommy was unsurprised to see Sam and Puffy there, glowing with pride. Puffy looked on the verge of tears, gripping to Sam’s arms with a nervous excitement. 

All words were lost in Tommy’s mind in that moment, the feeling of the embrace with Wilbur real, the feeling of hope rising inside of his chest every so slowly again. Dream had been wrong, Tommy had been wrong, they had both been wrong and now Wilbur was here, living proof that hope would win out, that Tommy could always find a home. 

“How-”

“We knew your home wouldn’t be complete without him.” Sam smiled down at the kid that he almost considered to be a son, Puffy glowing with pride beside him. “Puffy did some extra adventuring into some other SMPs to figure out how plausible it was to bring him back, especially since the respawn rules have changed a little since he died a year ago.” 

Looking up at the two of them- his _family,_ his mind finally let him supply- Tommy was so close to bursting out into tears. “Thank you.” He smiled, trying to hide his sob with a hiccuping cough, a grin breaking out onto his face as he was still locked into the embrace with Wilbur. 

“Of course.” Puffy smiled down at him, squeezing Sam’s hand softly in excitement, the two of them proud of the kid that they saw in front of him. The path to healing would be hard and difficult, but this was such a huge step in the right direction. The two of them smiled even wider as they looked at each other, then back down at Tommy. 

“Welcome home.” 

And for the first time, since he was an innocent child, Tommy believed it. 

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> hey GUYSSSSSS that absolutely sucked!!!! literally words cannot be correct in my brain right now and everyone is probably so OOC but I literally don't care. I tried to write like 1000 words for each prompt and my brain simply just self combusted and said hey, fuck you, so there's that. 
> 
> anyways- this was a little bit of me venting my ideas of home and venting about the concepts of home and pushing it onto Tommy and his problems but I realized there is SO MUCH potential with some of the stuff that I wrote that I might combust because my brain already has so MANY ideas for this fandom (one of them being a fic based off of the song good for you from deh that is just,,, wild and had been in my head for like a month but that's irrelevant) 
> 
> but tell me what you guys thought about it, and go ahead and follow me on twitter if you're so inclined! my user is @ whattheh0nkk ! also, if you wanna join my discord and see my absolute garbage chaos, here's the link!
> 
> https://discord.gg/NdRD7mcrCX
> 
> go ahead and join, we're a small and chill community and I think you'd enjoy it, you can lurk or do whatever you want!
> 
> OKAY OKAY SO I promise after this we will get an actual update to my ghostinnit series. that's all. okay, good night, happy valentines day cause I still got another two hours of that here in this realm of the world, and I hope you enjoyed!


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